


cross you out

by SaccharineCyanide



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 08:58:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17525708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaccharineCyanide/pseuds/SaccharineCyanide
Summary: when the doctor becomes incapacitated, yaz tries to figure out who she is. or was.





	cross you out

“go to the tardis,” the doctor hissed.

yaz had never heard her voice like this. low, angry, commanding—all at once. they stood in a hallway with dim, flickering lights at the end of the world. of course, it always seemed the world was ending these days. or yesterday. or tomorrow. or both. they had been following a distress call. however, no one seemed to be around despite the fact that the doctor’s sonic had picked up a signal. she led the way as she always did, her arm outstretched with a showy flair. this was expected, but there was something dissonant about it now.

 _too dramatic_ , yaz thought. this felt less like showmanship and more like self-defense.

“doc, we can’t—”

“go.”

she addressed all of them. a single, deadly command. graham took a step back, tentative, like he was waiting for her to change her mind. he’d been the most vocal about his feelings on this matter—he wished to leave as fast as they could, and reminded them frequently.

yaz felt differently. the doctor—their friend, she wanted to remind all of them—was in trouble. she had whisked them away on magnificent adventures. she was kind, and sweet, and utterly brilliant. she could be careless and a bit frazzled, but yaz loved her.

 _oh god_ , she thought, _that’s what it was_. her heart wrenched as though she’d been exposed to alien radiation. at least that hadn’t happened yet.

“ryan, graham, go!” the doctor’s voice was strained, fervent as it rang out. it broke yaz out of her thoughts. she looked at yaz, who wouldn’t budge. “yaz, please.”

the thin, dark-grey walls shook. from behind them, yaz heard a sound. like scratching, she thought, like someone trying to get out. no. no. shit. not someone trying to get in. something trying to get out.

the linoleum floors rattled.

“GO!” the doctor shouted, rounding the next corner.

yaz jumped. she was frozen. the doctor was in trouble. she had almost forgotten to run until ryan was pulling her forward, hand in hers, practically dragging her along.

graham took the lead. either he’d grown younger in the blink of an eye or fear did wonders for his age. ryan was behind him, yaz still dangling on, waiting for the doctor. her pulse pounded in her head. out of all their adventures, crazy, mad, chaotic days, this was by far the scariest.

 _but why?_ she wondered.

maybe it was how the doctor avoided her gaze when she asked about their mission. she murmured something then suddenly got very involved in whatever her sonic was doing. yaz trusted the doctor to tell them the truth. always. but now...her answers to their questions took so many turns and tangents that it made yaz dizzy.

they rounded another corner. there. at last, there was the tardis. everything was going to be fine. everything--but that thought was cut off by a sharp scream from where the doctor was.

ryan turned around. _no_ , his eyes warned yaz. _out of the question._

“she needs our help,” yaz pleaded.

he shook his head. “we don’t know if that was her. it could have been anyone. the doc doesn’t scream like that.”

before yaz could protest, graham banged on the door and it opened with a creak.

“get in.” he ushered yaz and ryan in and slammed the door shut behind them. they ran in and leaned on the railings as the door shut, breathing heavily.

“what,” ryan panted. “was that.”

yaz swallowed hard, shaking her head. “she wouldn’t say.” she stammered. “she wouldn’t say.” her mind was racing. she should have stayed. she should have stayed with the doctor.

graham could feel yaz overthinking from his place near the console. he walked over and placed a hand gingerly on yaz’s shoulder. “she’ll be back. she always comes back.”

_what if this time wasn’t like always?_

“we need her to get off the planet.” ryan said, staring at the ground and looking like he had discovered something huge. “we can’t go home without her here.”

“she’ll come back.” graham assured them. “she will.” much optimism from the man who would have left them all for a can of sardines just about twenty minutes ago.

they waited for a few minutes in silence. it would have been fine if it weren’t for the horrific, ungodly sounds coming from outside the tardis and down the long hallway. sounds of combat and roaring and something that reminded yaz of an old car horn. the noises became so unsettling that yaz found herself tapping the railing with her fingernails to try and conjure up a different thing for them to hear. ryan took to scuffing his shoe on the metal floor. silent solidarity. well, not so silent.

the racket stretched on for eternity. years were shorter than the time they waited anxiously in the tardis. until it suddenly fell silent with a final, piercing cry.

“it’s over.” graham looked up. “she’ll be coming back!” his voice was high with desperate hope.

they waited with bated breath, but the more time went by, the more fear crept into yaz’s heart. she should be coming back about now. she said she’d come back.

“what if she’s—“

yaz is interrupted by sound of thumping footsteps coming closer. before anyone could say anything, the doors swung open and the doctor dove in, hitting the floor just as the doors slammed shut.

“doc!”

the doctor stood up and brushed herself off, striding to the tardis console like nothing had happened. she took off her coat and placed it on the railing before turning to face them. “are all of you alright? you’re not hurt?” she scanned her friends up and down, searching for any injuries sustained while she was away from them.

yaz blinked. she appreciated the doctor’s concern, but there was...something a lot more pressing that needed to be addressed.

there was a gash on her cheekbone, just shallow enough for minimal blood flow, and it was softly glowing a pale green. there were more on her hands and one near her jawline.

“doc, your cheek.” graham stepped closer. “it’s—“ he was cut off by a loud thud outside.

“we need to get off this planet.” she spun around and pulled a lever, and yaz felt the familiar lurch of the tardis accompanying the sounds of it taking off. she, ryan, and graham huddled around the console. they were silent, waiting for the doctor to explain, but she didn’t say anything. she looked deep in thought. her eyes were darting around like she was lost, but she ran the tardis like how they had watched her do a thousand times before. it was like she was running on autopilot.

graham was the first to break the silence. “listen, doc, i’m sorry, but what in the world was that? we follow that signal, but then...then you send us away and then return looking like you’ve been through hell and back? who—what was that?”

the doctor looked at him as if she were seeing him for the first time. she stepped back from the console and slowly raised a hand to her face, grazing her fingers against the cut. they came away with a dark green substance. she stared at it and tilted her head. after a second, her eyes widened in recognition.

yaz knew instinctively what was going to happen before it happened. she’d seen it happen a million times, late at night in sheffield. people come out of parties and pubs plastered and pass out right on the pavement. usually she and a partner just helped them into the cop car and took them to the station.

this was different.

yaz leapt forward and caught the doctor as she pitched forward bonelessly.

“oh my god.” she choked out.

“what’s wrong with her?” ryan panicked. “what’s going on?”

he and graham ran to yaz’s aid, supporting the doctor.

“where do we take her?” graham asked. “does she ever sleep? does she have a bed or something?”

“i don’t know.” yaz bit her lip. “but we can move her against that wall.”

together, they rest the injured doctor against the wall. yaz knelt down and touched her face. the skin was warm, almost like a fever.

“she’s...feverish.” yaz frowned. “that thing back there...it must have...” before she could reply, the doctor’s eyes snapped open and she recoiled from yaz’s touch. once realizing who she had jerked away from, she leaned forward, dazed.

“doc, what’s going on?” ryan asked. he knelt next to yaz. “are you alright?”

it was then when they realized how awful the doctor truly looked. all of the color had drained out of her, save for the glowing green slashes in her skin. her eyes were glassy and unfocused. it scared the team to see their leader truly unstable. it had come on so fast.

the doctor attempted to speak, but it looked like she couldn’t find words that fit. either that, or it genuinely hurt.

“back away.” yaz stepped back. “give her space.” they obeyed, but the doctor rose shakily.

“i’m alright, yaz.” she muttered. “i...” once upright, she swayed to the left, causing graham to jump forward and take her arm to hold her up.

“respectfully,” graham helped her sit back against the wall. “i don’t think that’s true, doc.”

she exhaled. “it was the thing back at...” her voice failed her and she swallowed, blinking. “the claws—when unsheathed, they’re coated in this, in this poison, they’re d...” she trailed off, shutting her eyes to try in vain to re-center herself.

“doctor, what are they?” yaz prompted. “we need you to tell us what’s wrong so we can help you.”

“deadly.” she managed to say between shaky breaths. “venomous ...”

“but you can fix it though, right? you can find something to neutralize it?” ryan asked. “there’s always something you can do to fix it, right?” his faith in her was unshakable. under different circumstances it would have been heartwarming.

the doctor’s eyelashes fluttered. she was fighting against unconsciousness and it was very clear. “there may be something in the...” a quiet cough. “...apothecary.”

graham tilted his head. “there’s an apothecary?”

“where is it.” yaz asked. “doctor, you need to tell us.”

“on the tardis console, near the biscuit dispenser.” the doctor shuddered as the poison coursed through her veins. “there’s a map. use it to find the apothecary. the bottle of antidote will have...”

“come on, doctor.” yaz coaxed. “please.”

“...the word _venedium_ on it.” a tremulous exhale.

“ryan, graham, go. be quick.”

they nodded and ran into one of the tardis’s many endless hallways.

“thank you.” the doctor whispered. her voice, usually confident and cheery, could barely be heard. the initial shock of the poison entering her veins seemed to be subsiding. she went limp against the wall.

“it’s going to be okay, doctor, we’re going to help you.” yaz pressed the back of her hand to the doctor’s forehead, just like her mum used to do for her when she was sick.

the doctor melted into yaz’s touch with a sound not unlike a cat’s soft purr. it made yaz’s heart clench with sympathy. the roles were supposed to be reversed. the doctor always took care of them. yaz hoped that she could take care of the doctor before it was too late.

“you’ve a fever, doctor.” she whispered.

the doctor shuddered. “‘s cold.” she murmured, looking yaz in the eye with an expression that could only be described as quiet, fearful resignation. “i’m _freezing_ , yaz.”

sure enough, when yaz looked, she saw that the doctor was shaking.

suppressing her panic, yaz rose and got the doctor’s coat from the railing. she draped it over the doctor and knelt down next to her again. “here.”

they sat in silence for several moments (still very unfamiliar to yaz—most times she’d be lucky to get a word in edgewise with the doctor) until the doctor gave a sharp hiss. yaz turned to look.

a thin stream of dark blood was visible under the doctor’s nose.

“oh, god, doctor...does anything hurt?” yaz touched her face again, and it seemed to be even warmer than before. the poison was clearly not done ravaging the doctor’s body. dark circles could be seen under her dim eyes and breathing seemed to take effort.

“left pocket.” she instructed yaz in a harsh, gravelly voice. yaz complied and slipped her hand in the left pocket of the coat. it was filled with things: mechanical pencils, spools of wire, something bound in leather that she assumed was the psychic paper, and a handkerchief. she took the handkerchief out and handed it to the doctor, who pressed it to her mouth and nose with a trembling hand. it came away red. yaz didn’t know what she was expecting, but she was surprised that the doctor’s blood was the same color as hers.

it took a few seconds for the doctor to gather the strength to shake her head. “i know this poison. it will take twice as long to run its course.” she whispered. she touched her chest beneath the coat with the hand that clenched the handkerchief. “two hearts.”

yaz shifted towards her. “two hearts.” she repeated. it seemed as impossible as it did when she learned it the first time, but, now that she was properly thinking about it, she had no idea how the doctor’s body worked. she had no idea what the doctor was. as long as they would be here awhile as ryan and graham tried to find the antidote, she figured she’d ask.

“if you don’t mind me asking, doctor, why two hearts?” yaz slowly took in the doctor’s frame visible underneath her coat. “what...what are you?” it seemed like a vaguely invasive question. she kept her tone low. the same question had been directed at her a million times, but she was sure that her voice held none of the malice than that of those who asked her had held.

the doctor moved her head toward yaz with a trembling inhale. ”i thought you knew.”

yaz shook her head. “you’ve never...you never talk about yourself or where you’re from. we’re all a bit curious, if you want to know the truth.”

the doctor blinked slowly. after a moment, her head shifted towards yaz, a quiet decisiveness in her eyes. i suppose i could tell her. “gallifrey.” she sounded far away, almost wistful, but her voice was not warm.

“what’s gallifrey, doctor?” yaz asked gently. _don’t upset her_ , she reminded herself. _she’s already weakened—you don’t want to make it worse._

“a planet,” she answered. she didn’t seem bothered by the question, but there was something acidic in her voice that betrayed her willingness to answer it. “long gone, now.” her half-lidded eyes were cast downward, looking intently at the fabric of her coat. “to me, anyway.” the tone of the doctor’s voice was similar to the one that she had adopted to tell them to get to the tardis before she turned the corner and...did whatever she did to sustain those poisonous injuries.

“that’s where you’re from?” another thought occurred to yaz. “that’s...that’s where they know you from.” not a question, but a realization. “they _hate_ you.”

the doctor coughed quietly. “they _know_ me, yaz.” she corrected.

“the dalek, those...those things in the punjab, all of the monsters, the aliens, they...” everything was clicking together for yaz. “they fear you.” a beat. “they fear gallifrey.” slowly, she looked at the doctor. this trembling, pale, feverish alien who, right now, was rendered too weak to get up off of the cold floor of her own time machine was known across the universe as some...villain? yaz shook her head in disbelief. “i can’t imagine you doing anything to warrant...”

“because i’ve worked hard.” the doctor set her jaw. she was getting worse, and she knew that, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. not until graham and ryan got back. “i would never let you—any of you—see that.”

“you scared that dalek just by saying your name.” yaz brushed the doctor’s hair back from her face. the tender gesture contrasted with the dark nature of her question. “why are you scared of telling us about yourself?”

“because i don’t want you to see what it took for me to become—“ suddenly, she drew in a sharp breath and gave in to something that yaz could only describe as a convulsion.

“doctor!” yaz could do nothing but watch as the doctor’s body was shaken as if the poison in her blood had taken hold of her muscles.

at long last, she clenched her jaw and leaned her head back against the wall as it subsided.

“strupene technology.” she hissed through gritted teeth. “they’ve devised a poison so powerful that it takes hold of each of your systems—one by one.”

yaz marveled at how she was able to stay calm despite witnessing the destruction of her own body. it occurred to her that this was definitely not the first time the doctor had been afflicted with something such as this. maybe when she was alone and didn’t have yaz’s company to help distract her. it made yaz’s heart hurt to think of the doctor—her strong, wonderful, joyful, brilliant doctor—in such a condition by herself.

“thankfully...” she managed to hold her head up long enough for her to look at yaz with a dazed sort of smile. “...i have more than most.”

“doctor, what were you going to say before?” yaz pressed her lips together. she didn’t want to push the doctor farther than she was able to be pushed, but the rest of that sentence seemed important. and as long as they were stuck there, she had time to listen.

the doctor closed her eyes in an ineffective attempt to alleviate a headache. “i don’t understand why this is taking so long to wear off.” she looked up at the ceiling as if looking for answers.

despite her initial annoyance at her question being brushed off, what the doctor had said instead piqued her interest. “have you...?” she looked at the doctor, whose eyes were starting to glaze over and turn the same green as the gashes on her cheek, neck, and hands. “you know this poison too well to not have experienced it before.”

“tenth regeneration...” before elaborating, she held up a trembling index finger as a signal for yaz to wait. “just a moment.” while she surrendered to another seizure-esque convulsion with remarkable pragmatism, yaz could tell that they were draining her.

“imagine a tall englishman with converse trainers instead of real shoes.” she choked on a crude ghost of a laugh.

“sharp.” yaz smirked briefly, but while brushing the doctor’s hair back from her forehead, she donned a concerned expression. the doctor stared right through her, as if not seeing her properly. it scared her. _can she see me?_

“slashed me right through my clothes, into my shoulder.” she glanced down at her left shoulder as if she could feel it happening over again. “i insisted on looking for the antidote myself. i...” the doctor avoided yaz’s attentive gaze, and yaz could tell that it wasn’t just because the doctor couldn’t see her. “it...it doesn’t matter what happened, actually, i—“

that was it. she had played along, she had dropped the subject when the doctor wanted her to, but that was enough. yaz couldn’t take this anymore. “doctor, _stop_.”

the doctor looked at her with an expression of fear disguised as surprise. “yaz...”

“why won’t you tell me about yourself?” yaz asked. “why are so afraid of revealing your past self?”

to yaz’s surprise, the doctor grasped the nearby railing and stood. it was not unlike a baby deer walking for the first time, but the deer was instead a five and a half foot poisoned alien who was slowly going blind. “it’s not fear, yaz—“

yaz rose as well, but resisted the urge to help the doctor before she said what she needed to say. “you’ve brought us all over the galaxy—you’ve brought me all over the galaxy, why don’t you trust me? doctor, i have never raised my voice at you once, but—“

“yaz...”

“i need you to let me in! i want to help you, but i can’t do that unless—“

“yaz, i—“

“—you tell me what you’re so afraid of!”

“YAZ, _PLEASE!_ ” the doctor cried. she gripped the railing she was leaning on with one white-knuckled hand and slammed the other one against the wall with a pained hiss.

yaz jumped back. the doctor never hit anything, not even inanimate things.

“it’s not _fear_ —i’m not _afraid_.” the doctor exhaled. the sudden movement made her world spin despite the fact that she was painfully losing the ability to see it. “i’m ashamed.” she whispered.

“ashamed?” yaz stepped closer to try and help her, but the doctor raised her head defiantly. please let me do this by myself, yaz.

“this...this is me starting over. i am— _i_ am me starting over! i’m not proud of some of the things that i used to do. i wasn’t nice—i was hurt, and angry at myself, and angry at _them_ , and the daleks are afraid of me because i made it that way, as with every single other being we have crossed in this and every other universe because i made it that way, and i have _killed_ and i have _pillaged_ and i have made them fear me on _purpose_ , and i keep running and you! you, ryan, graham, right now, you’re all i have left, and, and...”

“doctor, you’re getting worse.” all yaz wanted was a simple answer, but she should have known that the doctor was incapable of simple, two-to-three word answers. she never wanted the doctor to break like this.

“yaz, i am capable of the most horrific things you’ve...you’ve ever imagined and i, i love you...” she trailed off, meeting yaz’s eyes. as yaz stared at the doctor, she saw that the veins around her eyes were green and visible under the skin, coursing with the strupene venom.

“doctor, you need to sit down, you’re not well—“

“...i love you too much to make you watch any of the things that any of my other companions have witnessed because i want you to _stay_.”

and with that, yaz could see it all. she could see the desperation and the regret, the guilt and the anger, the loss and heartbreak of every previous regeneration. she didn’t know how the doctor’s past selves looked, but she watched as they pleaded along with the doctor. her doctor. the doctor that she loved. yaz saw that she hated being vulnerable in front of a companion perhaps even more than being vulnerable in front of an enemy.

“people have left, and people have died, and when i met albert einstein he told me that insanity is doing the same thing over and over and over again and expecting different results.” she attempted to stand taller, gripping the railing and making sure she didn’t fall. “so i may be insane.”

yaz looked at the doctor intently, watching her every move because she knew that this was important. she knew her doctor, and her doctor was the strongest person she had ever met in her life, and she knew that this was important then she wouldn’t be helping this shaky, pleading, gorgeous mess in front of her because she couldn’t stand on her own without collapsing.

“but i really do want this to end differently, despite the fact that i’ve done it over and over again for a thousand years.”

“doctor, you don’t have to...”

“and the fact...the fact that you’re not my first companion doesn’t make you...any less special...” she tried her best to breathe regularly, but yaz could see it wasn’t working. her heart was failing. one of them, at least.

“doctor, you need to let go.” she whispered. yaz cupped the doctor’s cheek with her left hand and winced. “you’re still warm.”

“yaz, i need you to understand me.”

“doctor, you need to let go.”

the doctor slowly looked down at her hand gripping the railing. “you need to know that i want you to be safe more than anything.”

“doctor, you think i don’t know that already?” yaz’s face softened. “i know that.”

“do you promise?”

“yes.” yaz promised. “now, please just let go.”

with a tentative, shallow inhale, the doctor let go of the railing and collapsed into yaz’s arms.

she fit perfectly.

as yaz held her close, she concentrated on feeling the doctor’s hearts beating. _please. for the love of everything in the universe, please._

finally, after what seemed like hours, yaz picked up a faint beating in the doctor’s chest. too faint, but it was there. thank god, it was there. she needed to get the doctor somewhere comfortable until ryan and graham got back. the apothecary must be farther away than they thought.

the doctor knew the apothecary was far, why didn’t she just go herself? she knew she was poisoned before any of them did. why couldn’t she prevent this?

why _didn’t_ she prevent this?

yaz leaned against the wall with the doctor in her arms and thought back to what she had said.

_tenth regeneration._

yaz glanced down at the doctor. _what did you do?_

the doctor’s eyelashes fluttered. she was regaining consciousness. slowly but surely, she raised her head.

yaz swallowed the tightness in her throat, squashing the threat of tears. incredible how this beautiful, ridiculous alien had taken hold of her heart so quickly. “doctor, do you have somewhere where you can lie down?” yaz enunciated her words, but kept her tone low. the doctor was not all there, but she needed to hear the question.

“left hallway.” she murmured, barely audible. a rattling breath. “seventh door.”

 _yes. good. this is progress_ , yaz thought. she was doing everything she could to not think about what just happened. she would never tell the doctor, but she was terrified. the emotion in the doctor’s hoarse voice, the volume at which she tried to speak, the pleading...this wasn’t her doctor. her doctor was fearless, and would never show this side of herself to her companions. she couldn’t. she had barred herself from anything of the sort, and yaz had seen that in her soul.

but maybe that was the problem.

the mistakes that occurred in her previous regenerations were the very things she was running from, but she had eliminated all truly negative emotions from her personality. they saw her unhappy, they saw her fierce, they saw her angry.

never sad, never mean, never furious.

and never, _ever_ scared.

maybe this truly was her.

_doctor, i don’t like when you go quiet._

she had worked so hard to make sure that no one ever saw her like this, but why? who had exploited her weakness for their own gain? who had taken advantage of her?

who had hurt her?

_tenth regeneration._

what had happened was too shameful to reveal to yaz.

yaz ducked underneath the doctor’s arm and held onto her waist with the hand that wasn’t gripping the doctor’s wrist to keep her supported. they made their way down the hallway and finally approached the seventh door.

there were letters scrawled across it, carved into the wood and crossed out.

an MJ, crossed out.  
a DN, crossed out.  
an AP, crossed out.  
a CO, crossed out.  
a BP, crossed out.  
a CJH, crossed out.

and finally, an RT so furiously scored through that yaz could barely see it.

the doctor wouldn’t look at the door. she hung her head.

yaz opened it and saw a white bedroom. aggressively, obsessively white. white bedspread, white sheets, walls, drawers, pillows, floor. it didn’t look like a room the doctor would reside in. maybe it was a guest room.

yaz stepped into it. her shoe had barely grazed the ground when the room began to shift. she gasped. the walls painted themselves her favorite shade of blue, the bed remade itself with the same flannel sheets she had had in her childhood home, a lamp appeared on the now-wooden bedside table.

“oh my god.” she whispered. the doctor murmured something, and she remembered that she had an injured alien on her hands. yaz set aside her awe to help the doctor onto the bed. she slipped off her boots and put two pillows underneath her to support her head. a small bowl filled with water appeared on the bedside table with what looked like a cold compress in it. yaz took it and wrung it out.

“this might be a little shocking.” she whispered to the doctor, regardless of whether she was awake or not. yaz turned and placed the compress gently on the doctor’s forehead. just as she expected, the doctor hissed in surprise.

“i told you.” yaz sighed.

the doctor simply exhaled and sank back into the soft pillows.

yaz studied her face. the green veins that had branched off from her eyes were no longer pale enough to just-barely blend in with her pale skin. they were dark, and angry, but not enough to completely mar her face. this woman—alien, had done something so shameful as to warrant a new life in secrecy? she knew that this wasn’t the first time she had thought about this, but it just didn't make sense.

the doctor’s eyes opened and, with a pang of fear, yaz saw that her pupils were gone, replaced with the milky pale green that seemed to take over the rest of her body.

“doctor, can you see me?” yaz asked cautiously. the doctor sat up in response and stared at a faraway spot that was near yaz, but definitely not yaz, with her poisoned, neverending eyes.

the doctor shook her head.

that wasn’t the answer that yaz wanted to see, and she knew that her heart was beating too fast, but she also knew that she had to stay and wait this out with the doctor. just until graham and ryan got back.

something occurred to her. “doctor, lie down. i’m going to put a note on the wall so that when graham and ryan come back, they know when to find us.” she opened the drawer on the night table to find a small pad of paper that she knew wasn’t there before.

using a pen from on top of the desk, yaz wrote in print: _find us in the left hallway, seventh door._ as an afterthought, she added:  _the one with the writing on it._

“i’ll be back.” she told the doctor. “promise.”

yaz ran down the hallway to get to the console room. the tardis was a maze. it looked like how the doctor spoke, twists and turns and bright lights with these ever-present alcoves of darkness. this tardis was the doctor, yaz realized.

when she got to the console, yaz knew immediately that something had gone wrong. she hadn’t been traveling in the tardis for long, but she didn’t think that sparks flying off the console was a good sign. the levers moved on their own, the switches went up and down, and the screen where the doctor received signals was hanging on to the machine by a wire. it looked like the system was overheating. yaz ran to the console. _what does the doctor always do when she runs the tardis?_ she thought. if the doctor were here, it occurred to yaz that she would tell her to stay away from the sparks and take refuge in another sector. slowly, she complied.

she quickly put the note on the floor where they had sat, ducking to avoid the flying sparks. the doctor’s coat was still there. she picked it up and made her way quickly back to the room, running until the noises of the tardis going haywire faded. when yaz got the front of the door, she saw something written on it that she must have missed.

it had been carved recently, very neatly and with a fine blade. it stood out against the rest of the hurried and scratched-out letters that were carved in too deep to erase or cross out completely.

there, on the wood, was a delicate YK.

yaz blinked. _trick of the light_ , she told herself. _it’s been an exhausting few hours. you’re just stressed._ she opened the door dismissively and willed herself not to read the other letters on the door again.

but what she saw when she stepped in was no trick of the light.

the doctor was convulsing on the bed, her jaw tightened and eyes squeezed shut.

shit. yaz rushed to her bedside and, with no reservations, clutched the doctor’s hand. she murmured assurances that she wasn’t completely sure of. it felt like days were passing. it was like nothing yaz had ever, ever seen before. in old video games that she used to play with her sister, the screen would go screwy for a moment whenever something happened to the power lines outside, and the character on the screen would move almost too quickly, but there were delays that made it impossible to discern what the character was doing. the body would glitch, stopping and starting in an array of neon colors.

but it always stopped, and the game would either continue or you would have to start over.

_continue?_

finally, the seizing ceased and the doctor sank into the bed, utterly exhausted. yaz gripped her hand tightly. it was cold, and the cuts on the back of it burned yaz’s skin a little, but she didn’t want to let go.

“yaz…” the doctor’s voice called her.

yaz watched as the doctor’s sightless eyes went wide. she parted her lips and a weightless golden something floated out of her mouth. it looked like what would happen if yaz exhaled in the wintertime and steam billowed from her lips, but it glittered in the dim light of the bedroom. but whatever it was made the doctor freeze.

yaz had never seen the doctor look as scared as she did then. “doctor...what was that?” hadn’t the same thing happened when they first met? she had said the she wasn’t...ready. things were still rearranging themselves inside her.

she sat up against the bedframe weakly and looked in the direction of where yaz’s voice was. “yaz, you have to keep me awake.” her voice was deadly serious. her hand gripped yaz’s just as hard as yaz gripped hers. “talk to me. please. anything you can. just don’t let me go.” she took off the cold compress with her other hand. a small drop of water made its way down her face, cascading down her cheek from underneath her eye. it was a cruel imitation of a tear. imposter, yaz thought. she knew the doctor didn’t cry.

“did this happen last time?” yaz asked. “did it get this bad?” she wasn’t even completely sure of what happened, but if it scared the doctor, it scared her, too.

“no, it was...it was quicker than this.” she looked up at the ceiling. yaz noticed that there were little glow-in-the-dark stars on it, just like the ones that she had loved as a child.

“how do you mean?”

“i made it worse.” she admitted, tucking her hair behind her ear. yaz wanted an explanation but she didn’t want to upset her. to her surprise, the doctor offered it without complaint. “i insisted on looking for the antidote myself. i was stubborn, and reckless, and determined to show my...companion at the time that i didn’t need any help.” she hesitated before the word “companion,” and yaz felt a strange sort of jealousy creep up her spine.

“what happened?” yaz asked. she turned around and saw a wooden chair appear behind her. she pulled it towards the bed and sat, taking the doctor’s hand again. just keep talking.

the doctor hesitated again. yaz could see her body tense up. she was fighting the urge to dismiss the topic and move on. yaz could feel it. the last thing the doctor wanted was to tell her this.

but she was in pain, and needed to keep herself awake, whatever happened. it was just so difficult to let herself go.

“i got about halfway to the apothecary before it started to kick in. i started to see...see things that i didn’t want to see.” the doctor turned her head towards yaz with effort. “every single being that i had killed up until then, every person that died because of my recklessness. people that…” she was having trouble swallowing. “that hadn’t even died yet.”

“your companion.” yaz whispered. there was a sound on the ground. a bowl of ice chips appeared. yaz picked one up and slowly put it to the doctor’s lips. it melted almost instantly in the doctor’s mouth. she practically radiated heat. graham and ryan needed to act quickly.

“rose tyler.” the doctor murmured. it hurt her to even say, to even think about.

rose tyler. why did that seem…

yaz looked behind her at the door. she remembered the RT, scored through with what was probably a powerful laser. something from a sonic screwdriver.

this room was so much more than a guest room. it was a memorial.

yaz placed another ice chip into the doctor’s mouth, where she saw it melt instantly.

“it was so vivid, yaz.” her voice broke. “i tried to take precautions. i tried to stop it, to keep her away from things that would put her in danger.”

“doctor, what do you mean?”

“i wasn’t strong enough.” the doctor whispered. as she breathed out, a small cloud of the golden smoke-looking thing made its way into the air. she grit her teeth, trying to stop any more from coming out. the effort was wearing her down. yaz could see it in the way she tried to hold her head up.

_keep me talking._

“for what?” yaz pressed. “what happened?” _stay curious to save the doctor._

“i…” the doctor let her head tilt back against the bed frame. yaz instinctively made sure that the pillows were arranged in such a way so the doctor wasn’t uncomfortable. “i didn’t see rose die, but i saw her leave, and somehow that was worse than dying. to know that she’s still out there somewhere.” a beat. “and if she saw me now, she wouldn’t recognize me at all.” the doctor looked at nothing in the air in front of her. in a brittle voice, she spoke. “i would be a stranger to her.”

yaz could think of anything to say to prompt the doctor to go on. anything in her own life that she could think of paled in comparison to the doctor’s sorrows in the span of a thousand years. she had seen planets die and the rebirth of stars. the demise of galaxies upon galaxies and the darkness that came with it. she had tasted the blood of those who had crossed her and grieved for those who had died in the process. she lived with the deaths of thousands on her hands and managed to keep going solely for the ones who hadn’t died yet. yaz didn’t know rose. she had never seen rose before. but she knew that the doctor had loved her with the full force of both of her hearts. finally, she knew what to ask.

“was she worth it?” yaz asked softly. “the time you spent with her, was it worth it?” the question was somewhat selfish. this was something that yaz had been wondering a lot as she and the doctor continued their complex relationship—something in the middle between a friendship and...something entirely different. would she be worth it, even though they both knew that it had to end soon enough?

the doctor looked at yaz with a smile several sizes too small. “every second was worth it.” worth the pain of knowing that it would end. “every single one.”

something occurred to yaz. “and you told her what you had seen.”

“i couldn’t make it to the antidote myself, so she had to help me. we sat against a wall, just as you and i did earlier.” the doctor looked down with her eyes, as moving her head was becoming too painful. “i told her everything except the part about her leaving. i thought that if i didn’t speak it into existence, it wouldn’t happen.” she shuddered. “words have power, yaz.”

“but you lost her anyway.” yaz frowned. “and that’s why you don’t want to make that same mistake. you accept your new self, doctor, and you honor your past selves, but what’s the point of that if you don’t acknowledge their mistakes?” there was no malintent in her words, but still, she drew back in case she had crossed a line.

“when you consent to traveling with me, i need...i need your trust more than anything else.”

yaz lifted the doctor’s chin gently so that their eyes met. the doctor’s sightless eyes, completely white now, were half-lidded, but yaz could feel the static intensity in the air.

“for me to trust you—for us to trust you, you have to trust yourself.” yaz moved her hand to cup the doctor’s cheek. the warmth was fading, but was being replaced with a stone cold sensation that yaz did not like. corpses weren’t that cold.

the doctor allowed yaz to touch her face with her smooth hands. “i don’t want to cross you out, yaz.”

yaz relaxed. “doctor, i—“

she was cut off by ryan and graham bursting through the doorway. yaz pulled her hand away from the doctor’s face.

“oh my god, is she okay?” ryan stopped in his tracks at the sight of her. graham came up behind him and came to a quick halt, just as ryan had. he drew a quick, startled breath.

yaz took a small bottle out of ryan’s hands. it was filled with red liquid and had “ _venedium_ ” scrawled on its label in a handwriting that yaz recognized immediately.

the door.

she glanced at graham and ryan. “thank you.” she whispered. graham nodded once, unsure of what to say.

“doctor.” yaz murmured. she looked back at the doctor, who could no longer hold her head up by herself. she sat back against the bed, lifeless and weak, exhaling golden sparks. yaz gently lifted the doctor’s head towards her. “here.”

she tipped the bottle’s contents into the doctor’s mouth.

_oh, please. please, please, please._

silence. ryan, graham, and yaz waited with bated breath. the doctor couldn’t die, could she? their doctor couldn’t die. she promised them she’d show them the universe. the whole wide galaxy. she said she’d take them anywhere, anywhere they’d like. anywhere.

ryan swallowed. he tapped his fingers against the change in his pocket. graham scuffed his shoe on the wooden floor. solidarity, even in the darkest of times.

“what if we’re—“

before yaz could finish the worst sentence she’d ever say in her life, the doctor’s eyes opened. the most beautiful eyes in the galaxy, yaz thought. she had never been so happy to be interrupted.

“doc…” graham took a step forward cautiously.

the doctor sat up gingerly. she coughed and pressed a hand to her mouth to prevent any of the swirling gold smoke from coming out. “yaz…”

yaz looked at the doctor. her eyes—beautiful brown eyes that could finally see—spoke for her.

_don’t make me cross you out._

“you won’t have to cross me out, doctor.” yaz said, gentle and warm. the doctor leaned her forehead on yaz’s, and yaz felt the previous stone coldness fade to give way to normal, balanced warmth.

a few feet away, graham tugged on ryan’s sleeve, guiding him out of the room. “let them have a moment.” he whispered. ryan complied lamely.

yaz was grateful.

“you scared me, doctor.” yaz said, sotto voce. “did you mean all the things you said?”

“i’m sorry you...you had to see me...like…” the doctor spoke in hoarse, broken syllables. sadness mingled with the relief in yaz’s heart.

“no, no, no. don’t apologize.” yaz touched the doctor’s cheek, where the little green lines were still fading. “i want you to talk to me about these things.” if someone had told yaz that she’d be in this situation a day ago, she would have said they were crazy. absolutely mad. but everything happened so fast. “if no one else, i just want you to talk to me.”

“yaz…”

“when i said that i, that i want more of you—more of the universe, that meant that i trust you. i’ve trusted you since that day in the shop, where you tried on the most ridiculous outfits.” yaz laughed softly. she wanted the doctor to smile. “i trust you. proper trust, doctor.”

“yaz, i don’t want you to…”

“listen to me.” yaz chided. “and i want you to trust me, too. i know i’m not rose—“

“yaz.” the doctor flinched, but yaz took her hand.

“hear me out. i know i’m not rose, or any of the other names on your wall, but—“

the doctor finally looked up. “i never said you had to be.” she murmured. “you don’t have to be...to be anyone.” yaz observed her hesitation. now that she was in her right mind again, the doctor reverted back to avoiding rose’s name completely. “i just want you to be careful.”

despite the circumstances, yaz could have laughed. the doctor could be such an alien sometimes. “careful? doctor, you’ve taken us to the most dangerous places in the universe! if anything, telling me when you’re struggling should be way easier than anything you’ve ever seen.”

“you don’t _know_ that, yaz.”

“doctor, you just told me your deepest fears. i know i can handle—“

“you don’t _know_ that, yaz!” the doctor pleaded. her voice broke.

 _you got carried away_. “i’m sorry, i’m not trying to—“ yaz backtracked.

“everything i...everything dies eventually.” the doctor slowly inched her hand out of yaz’s grip. “i just want this to be _different_.” her voice still held the sort of helplessness it had taken on when she had been pleading with yaz in the console room.

yaz looked to the side. she wondered how many times the doctor had had this conversation with someone she loved, only to have her hopes dashed yet again. it sounded rehearsed, yet improvised at the same time. like she was editing it to be different, hoping weakly that this time would be better.

and suddenly, yaz knew why the doctor had two hearts. one heart wasn’t enough to contain the multitudes of emotion within her. she needed two, two to hold every hope, dream, and wish she had ever had. so what was the point in trying to keep her feelings inside?

“doctor, everyone has feelings.” yaz started gently. “and you don’t have to put on a brave face for us. for your…” yaz cringed. “...fam.”

the doctor looked up, a faint smile crossing her lips at the mention of her affectionate nickname for her companions.

“you can’t force yourself to stay happy forever.” yaz struggled to find what she wanted to say. “because...because that’s not you.“ she fiddled with the edge of her jacket. “i saw you, earlier. you were out of your mind, and probably in a lot of pain, but you were emotional. real. you told me what you felt. and just because it was a negative emotion doesn’t mean it should be pushed down.”

yaz watched as something shifted in the doctor.

“a while ago,” she started and grabbed a handful of flannel bedding to stop herself from holding yaz’s hand too tightly. “there was a rule. i had a rule.”

“what was it?” yaz took the doctor’s other hand, just to make contact. just so the doctor knew she wasn’t alone.

“the doctor lies.”

yaz listened intently, urging the doctor to go on by grazing the back of her hand with her thumb.

the doctor looked at yaz. “i don’t want to lie to you all anymore. but i also want to keep you safe. that’s my...that’s what i have to do. you have families. you, graham, ryan. i don’t. your safety, to me, is of more importance than…” she exhaled. “it’s…”

“the two aren’t mutually exclusive.” yaz said gently. “you can keep us safe just by telling us the truth.” she tilted her head. “words have power, doctor.” a beat. “you need to let go.”

the doctor looked at yaz, fascinated. yaz had taken her completely by surprise. at least there were still things that could surprise her, even after all this time. “you’re brilliant, yaz. do you know that?” her voice, though still rough, betrayed her somber expression and evoked the thought of a child looking at the stars for the first time.

before yaz could answer, all went quiet. neither she nor the doctor had realized that the tardis had been making so much noise. the doctor’s eyes sparkled ever-so-faintly. her ghost monument had settled down.

and so had she.

not everything became perfect after that. the doctor was a stubborn patient who refused to convalesce properly, but with much coaxing, ryan, graham, and yaz got her to recover at yaz’s house for a few days. she did mention to yaz how comfortable the flannel sheets were.

slowly but surely, the doctor started telling them stories about her past selves. nothing too revealing, but they got to know her. she was less of an alien and more of a friend.

yaz often caught her staring out the windows of the tardis. when approached, she wouldn’t shy away.

the YK written on the seventh door in the left hallway stayed there. sometimes it had little flowers next to it, and the lines grew deeper every day. it would take a while for her initials to match the depth of the other ones, but yaz was willing to wait. she would always be willing to wait.


End file.
